


Do Some Damage

by rose_coloured



Series: The knife to his throat [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Relationships, the kavinsky/ronan is very onesided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 16:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12511048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_coloured/pseuds/rose_coloured
Summary: A dreampack late night adventure.There's nothing more dangerous than bored teenagers.





	Do Some Damage

Their night hadn't started very wild. Actually, the plan had been to meet at Kavinsky's house and get ridiculously wasted, without anybody getting harmed or threatened to be killed. Just the five of them for once. 

No Ronan. No fight. 

But that idea didn't last long.   
Kavinsky was pissed, because of something-something and Swan was extremely restless, so both of them were pacing around the big room, knocking over bottles, kicking beer cans and shoving each other wordlessly. The rest watched them, just waiting until one of them would snap. They would punch each other and somebody would have to try and get the blood out of the ugly somewhat greyish carpet tomorrow. But before that could happen Jiang had stepped in, despite Skov's muttered protest about “spoiling all the fun”.  
“Let's just get outside before somebody gets killed.”, he suggested. The boys only murmured back. Proko himself felt much too comfortable sitting there a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other one. Getting up would be so much work and he still felt dizzy from whatever fucked up dream pill he had taken earlier. He wanted to stay here waste the night away, maybe if he played good and Kavinsky's mood got better they could fuck later.   
Unfortunately, the rest of the group had another idea and so each of them grabbed a bottle and hurried out into dark Henrietta. Looking for trouble – or more likely causing trouble. 

They wandered the city, Skov had a bag full of aerosol cans he made good use of. Well, good use mostly meant that he was spraying dicks onto every wall, that looked like it needed a makeover. That they considered this hilarious only showed how drunk they were, still taking swigs from Wodka and Jägermeister straight from the bottle. As they were staggering through the empty streets, howling with laughter, tripping each other Proko noticed how close they really were. With himself naturally close to Kavinsky, him right now shoving Skov, who was holding onto Swan, against a street sign and Jiang on Proko's side they were like a pack of dogs, dirty, drunk and high dogs.   
And they all gravitated towards K. 

His vision was fuzzy.

When they passed a supermarket, Swan lead them towards the parking lot and not much later Proko found himself seated in a shopping cart, Jiang pushing him way too fast. They crashed into a tree and when Proko felt blood drip from his he laughed. Both of them were lying in the grass, barely able to laugh. 

He felt pain, so he was alive.  
The local Highschool was where their route ended. Kavinsky kicked over the shopping cart Prokopenko was sitting in, without sparing him much of a glance. They were at the sports field. It was much smaller than the one at Aglionby and Prokopenko heard somebody mutter about “Damn poor assholes and their trash school.” It was probably K himself, he used to generalize in his hate for the trailer trash boy.   
Prokopenko slowly got up  
“Do you think they have a security system?”, Skov mused. His voice was barely understandable, he was slurring heavily.   
“Try it.”, was Swan's only answer and he handed him a stone, a big as a fist. Skov hesitated, eyeing the stone and the window of the gym.  
Meanwhile, Jiang and Swan tried to hang the shopping cart from the basketball hoop.

Then there was the crashing sound of breaking glass. Skov had thrown the stone at last. No alarm sounded and when that was clear, the boys went wild. They threw more stones, Skov made once more good use of his aerosol cans.   
A bunch of drunk and bored rich kids was probably the most dangerous sight in all of Henrietta.

Prokopenko stayed back, the alcohol had finally completely gotten him and he swayed on his feet. It took a great amount of concentration to not just fall over on his face. So he didn't sense Kavinsky stepping behind him. Only when he felt strong arm yank him back, holding him uncomfortably firm. “Look at this bunch of drunk fuckers.”, was the only thing Kavinsky said to him. Proko was pretty sure it was the first thing the boy had said to him all day. Apart from “Try this. It won't kill you.”, when he had handed over the pills.  
He leaned back into the touch of Kavinsky's hands on his body. Closer. Always closer. Like a moth drawn to a flame. Not caring the least bit about being burnt.  
Proko felt the other boy's breath on his neck as Kavinsky's grip on him tightened. One hand almost instantly found the bruises he had left on Prokopenko's right hip the night before and the other one slowly traced his jawline only to drop down onto his throat. No pressure, but the promise of it. The ghost of the feeling he craved so much. The dizziness in his head and the loss of control. Who was he to control his life, if it didn't belong to him anymore?  
Proko had to swallow hard, but stayed still, not even flinching when Kavinsky bit down on the spot where his neck met his shoulder. He had noticed earlier this day that the bruise there was almost completely faded. 

Proko didn't want to fade. He never wanted to leave this place. His place.


End file.
